Murtagh's Story
by Author sama277
Summary: Murtagh meets a depressed halfelf by the name of Tornac and they become really close. The King tries to tear them apart, and I'm better at writing stories than summeries. Yaoi
1. Drowning in Thoughts

A/N: Yo people! Meh, this is probably the most depressing story I've ever written. The first chappy sucks, and that really sucks because the first chapter is, like, everything! The first chapter is what pulls you in and makes you have to read the rest of the story…of something…Wait, never mind…I don't even remember what I'm saying anymore. So I'll just let you read and hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Muwahahaha…What? Sorry, I was just imagining what would happen if I did own 'Eragon'. But I don't…so I'll get over it…

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Chapter 1

Drowning In Thoughts

Murtagh strode down the long, tiled corridor as he trying not to kneel over. He had just been in a meeting with the king of Alagaesia, Galbatorix. As always, it had been a very rough meeting. Murtagh's body was sore and already starting to ache from the usual abuse he had to endure when meeting with the king.

His visits to Galbatorix were always cruel and violent. He came back from the appointments bloodied and covered in bruises. They were always alone when Murtagh was beaten, too. Galbatorix made sure that no one was around when he had his way with Murtagh.

In fact, the only time Murtagh ever felt safe with the king was during his birthday dinners. During then, many nobles and aristocrats were there, so if the king tried anything…_funny_…with Murtagh, there would be witnesses.

But it wasn't his birthday this time, and they had been alone…which only meant…

…pain for Murtagh.

Murtagh tried to think about other things to help keep the pain in his arm at bay. As he thought, a laundry maid passed him by. A small gasp managed to pull Murtagh out of his reverie.

Murtagh glanced over his shoulder. The maid had dropped her load and was staring wide-eyed and him.

"M-Master Murtagh! What…w-what happened to you? You look…you look…well…"

Murtagh smiled. "Just say it. It's alright. I look like shit, I know."

The laundry maid looked down and picked up the cloths that she dropped. "Sir…I-If you'll excuse me…"

Murtagh shrugged and a sigh escaped the maid's lips.

The girl hoisted the bundle into her arms and hastily made her way around the corner, allowing Murtagh to go back to thinking.

Suddenly Murtagh recalled a conversation he had overheard about a half elf. The word 'half-elf' brought him out of the trance he was in. A few days ago, on his 15th birthday, Murtagh had listened in on a discussion between a priestess and a duke about a half-breed that had been captured and sent to Uru'baen by the sanctified Pope of Uru'baen. The half-elf had been causing mayhem in the forest of Du Weldenvarden.

When he was only a small child, the half-elf killed his entire village. He wandered through Du Weldenvarden, supposedly killing whoever happened to cross his path. In an attempt to stop the child, a group of elves chased him out of the forest. When the half-elf made it out of the forest, Uru'baen soldiers who had been patrolling the border of Du Weldenvarden restrained him and, on the Pope's orders, sent the imprisoned boy to Uru'baen to be confined.

Murtagh had heard from the priestess that the half-elf had somehow managed to escape his solitary confinement and free himself from the soldiers. Now he was somewhere roaming the castle. It gave Murtagh chills to think that such a creature was in the same building as him, no matter how big the building was.

Ya see…half-elves were the scum of Alagaesia to humans, elves, dwarves, demons, and dragons alike. Every race considered half-breeds to be a waste of life.

Murtagh had always hated stereotypes and labels, but he, too, couldn't help but fear and loath half-elves. He had been told many stories and tales about half-elves—mainly from his childhood jester—but never was there anything good and righteous to be told about half-elves.

Half-elves were said to be hideous creatures with claws and horns, slightly resembling the beast that lives in hell. Supposedly they had fangs that were too overgrown for their jaws and hands that didn't seem to be in proportion with their tree-trunk-like arms. The main way to distinguish a half-elf from another type of creature was by their ears. Their ears were slightly pointed at the top—though not as pointed as a pure-blood elf's. They also had horizontal markings under one of their earlobes.

'Primitive' was all that Murtagh could think of to describe these creatures. 'Primitive' and 'demonic'.

In fact, some people thought that half-elves were actually demons.

Once, when Murtagh was still small, a scullery maid started to tell him a story as she cleaned and he watched. It was about how half-elves were the cause for all of the evil and sins in Alagaesia—that they were the reason for the calamity, misfortune, and tragedy that lived with everyone today. Murtagh listened in silence as she declaimed her tale about the very first half-elf to ever have been born in Alagaesia.

His birth was the result of an elf and a human getting drunk. His life was a mistake, his birth was an accident…he was a chance child, a bastard baby, a whoreson, a…mistake…His parents were ashamed, they tried to hide him from the world, they tried to ignore him and forget about him…he was never even given a name. His parents were too mortified to ever see each other again, so the half-elf baby was left with his reluctant mother. For a short period of time, she grudgingly gave her child a home.

Soon, his elf mother started to become insane. She became mad, paranoid, schizophrenic even. She even stopped talking to anyone. Her last words she ever spoke to anybody were… "The only regret I've ever had is that that…_thing_…came out of my body…"

After that, she became truly insane and committed suicide.

The child had never heard from his father again. Eventually, as the boy grew older, he was burned to death by a village at the base of Helgrind. Ever since his death, Helgrind became a place that people regarded to as 'hell's little brother'. It is a place that's feared—people consider the base to be the entrance to hell itself.

Murtagh wondered why so many people hated half-elves so much. Was it their appearance? No. Murtagh could only think of one reason to explain peoples' hate for the half-breeds. Their power. Half-elves were said to have immense power, destructive and annihilating. But their power was hidden inside their souls. It was only unleashed in dire times, Murtagh had learned.

Murtagh had studied up on the topic of half-elves. They seemed so interesting to him. He couldn't help but love and fear them at the same time.

Suddenly a piercing scream erupted throughout the hall he was walking down.

"Yahhhhhhhhh!"

Murtagh halted. _What the hell?_ he thought. Then he heard it again. Whoever was screaming sounded like they were in pain. Murtagh pushed the pain along with the half-elf stories to the back of his mind. He had to help whoever was in trouble!

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"Son of a bitch!" Murtagh could hear someone yell. The next second, a hard thumping sound rang in Murtagh's ears, followed by a scream of pain. As Murtagh turned the corner, he gasped. The hall opened up to a small room. In the center, a royal soldier was holding a boy looking no older than 15 by the wrist.

The boy was gorgeous.

He had wavy hair that fell down to his chin and had a bluish glow to it to match his deep, blue eyes. His face was soft and round, his eyes slanted and almond shaped. The eyebrows above his stunning eyes were gracefully angled upwards. His face seemed to glow in radiance; the room even seemed to become brighter. But all of his splendor was covered by…blood.

That's right. Blood. The boy was coated from head to foot in his own blood.

The soldier held on to the boy's wrist firmly, not to keep him from escaping, but to keep him from falling on the red-stained floor. That way, he could get better aim with the boy in mid-air than on the ground. Dragging all of his weight (the boy couldn't have weighed very much), the soldier kept him off the tiled flooring.

The solider holding onto his wrist raised a hand and brought it down harshly on the boy, shedding more blood. The boy cried out again and drew his arm up to defend himself. Once more, the soldier punched the boy. This time, the boy used his arm to grab the opposing hand and bite it. He bit the soldier's hand hard. How hard? Hard enough to draw blood.

The soldier cursed and withdrew his hand.

"You bastard!" he yelled. Using his foot this time, the soldier firmly kicked the boy in the ribs, causing him to cough up blood. A small puddle of blood was forming underneath him.

Murtagh had had enough of this. He couldn't take watching this gorgeous person being beaten to death. He had to stop it. It was torturing him as well as the younger boy.

"What the hell is going on!" Murtagh bellowed.

Both, the soldier and the boy looked up. When the boy's gaze met Murtagh's, Murtagh was at a loss of words.

The soldier saluted Murtagh at once.

"Murtagh, sir!"

That seemed to bring Murtagh back to life. Once he remembered how to breathe, Murtagh realized that he had been staring at the boy…and he had been staring back. Murtagh turned a shade of red and looked away, before returning his attention to the soldier.

"What is going on! He's bleeding to death!" Murtagh motioned to the boy slowly sinking down in a puddle of his own blood below him.

"Sir, I have good reason. This…" he stopped to glare at the bleeding boy and spat at him. "This _thing_ has escaped from Uru'baen solitary confinement. I caught him trying to escape and immediately stopped him using whatever tactic was necessary—including force."

Murtagh stomped over to the soldier, furious. The soldier seemed to cower, but never loosened his tight grip on the boy's wrist.

"Who has given you the right to do this!"

"Uh…sir…His Majesty has granted every soldier and guard the right to take custody of this thing by whatever means necessary…Is there a problem, Murtagh sir?"

"Damn straight! What is so important about this boy, anyway?"

The soldier stared at Murtagh through his helmet in disbelief. The boy, too, stared up at Murtagh as if he had grown three heads.

"Sir…this creature is a half-elf…"

Murtagh blinked. Did he hear that right? A half-elf? Murtagh had to gasp for air before speaking again. The boy looked away as Murtagh spoke.

"Wh-what…proof do you have of this?" Murtagh stuttered.

"Just look at his right ear, sir. It is where his marking is." Wrenching the so called half-elf upright by the wrist, the soldier dragged the boy to Murtagh…which pissed Murtagh off.

"Stop that! Be gentle with him!" Murtagh demanded.

The guard ignored him and yanked the boy into a standing position and pushed him over to Murtagh. He stayed standing for a couple of moments before pitching forward. The fragile boy almost fell on his face, but Murtagh rushed over to catch him. Gently cradling the boy, Murtagh grasped his shoulders and tenderly pulled the boy into a kneeling position, so that they were both on their knees.

The soldier strode over before Murtagh shot him an evil glare. Then he just backed away.

Turning away from the solider, Murtagh focused his attention on the boy kneeling into him. He was shivering. Affectionately, Murtagh started to wipe the blood away from the boy's gorgeous face so he could see him better. The boy innocently, but expectantly gazed back up at Murtagh with his dazzling blue eyes.

Murtagh started to stroke his cheek, trying to bring the boy back to wakefulness.

"Hey…" Murtagh used a finger to tilt the younger boy's chin upwards. "Will you let me see you ears?" he asked quietly.

The boy didn't answer. When Murtagh got no response, he freely lifted his other hand and slowly started to head towards the boy's ear. Suddenly, the boy's head whipped back and he snapped at Murtagh's hand. Murtagh reflexively withdrew his hand, but not before the younger boy nipped it.

"Ow! Damn!" A small blot of blood started to form on the tip of Murtagh's finger. He started to suck on the finger to try to cease the pain. "You have sharp teeth…"

The boy ducked his head, as if to hide himself from a blow to the head, but when he felt nothing hard hitting him, he looked up. Murtagh was smiling at him.

"You…must have been hurt many times to be so defensive. But…" Murtagh pressed his forehead against the other boy's. "I'm…I'm not going to hurt you…I swear, okay?"

The boy's eyes widened in surprise and his breath quickened. Murtagh swallowed before repeating himself.

"Okay…?"

After a long pause, the boy nodded. Murtagh grinned and removed his forehead from the boy's. Slowly, Murtagh raised his hand and gently pushed the boy's bluish strands of hair behind his right ear and tilted his chin up higher.

Murtagh gasped. His ear…was pointed.

"No…" Murtagh whispered. The boy started to pull away, but held in place, not taking his eyes off of Murtagh. Just to make sure, Murtagh looked under his earlobe. A small, dark blue line was horizontally stretched under the lobe. Murtagh tried to stay calm.

_I have to get him off of me! He really is a half-elf! And he's in my arms! Should I push him off…but I swore I wouldn't hurt him. What if I just hand him over to the soldier? But that wouldn't be right…he would probably kill him. What should I—_

His thought was interrupted by the sound of whimpering and shudders. Looking down, he saw that the half-elf had leaned in on Murtagh's chest. His breathing was quick and rapid, and he couldn't stop shivering.

"Sir?" the soldier asked from the side lines. Murtagh ignored him and stared down at the half-elf.

"Uh…nuh…I'm…Murtagh." The half-elf looked up. He was panting and his fingers were trembling. His face was unbelievably pale.

"…?"

"Tell me your name…"

"T-Tornac…" was all that was able to escape his lips before he blacked out and collapsed into Murtagh's arms. Murtagh's face reddened before he clutched Tornac's shoulders and lifted the half-elf up. Embracing Tornac in his arms, he turned away from the now forgotten soldier and started to head back down the to the hallway.

"Nuh…Sir Murtagh? I have to send that thing to His Majesty…" the soldier stopped him.

When Murtagh spoke, his voice was icy. "Don't call him a 'thing'…and if you ever come near him again, I swear, I'll rip you to pieces…"

"But sir! The King—"

"I'll take care of Galbatorix, now you get out of my sight before you die…"

The soldier looked taken aback, before he turned on his heel and fled the room. Murtagh paid no attention to him and instead turned to the trembling half-elf in his arms.

"Tornac, eh?" he whispered.

Calmly, Murtagh started to wipe away some of the new blood away from Tornac's lips. Sighing, he racked his brain, trying to think of what to do.

_This is a half-elf I'm holding—a half elf! But Tornac is nothing like stories I've been told. He doesn't have any horns…and his body seems to be in faultless proportion…Really, he seems perfect. But he's bleeding everywhere…he could bleed to death. Maybe I should take him to my chambers. Kiriyu could fix him up, but how would I explain this to everyone? Well, they'll have to accept him if I do…but do I accept him? _Murtagh looked down at Tornac. _He isn't anything like what everyone says half-elves are like…yes. I think I do accept him._

Murtagh smiled.

He continued to lead Tornac down the hall to his wing, trying to think up a way to explain to all of his servants why he had a bloody half-elf with him.

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Reviewing is good karma 


	2. Cat Got Your Tongue?

A/N: Hey, people! Sorry it's taken me so long to update! I feel horrible about it…Ya see, Noriko-sama grounded me for causing trouble, right now I'm sneaking on. It's been so weird not updating…and it's only been like, a week…In my other story, I add another chappy every other night. It only takes me a couple hours to write a chapter, depending on the story. And I really don't know if I'll make Murtagh gay or not…yeah, I think I will…So here's another chapter for you all!

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Chapter 2

Cat Got Your Tongue?

"So we really have to take care of him…?"

"Yup. That's what Master Murtagh said."

"But…he's a half-elf…"

"Get over it, old one! Does he seem anything like a half-elf from the stories?"

"Well…no…"

"Exactly. Besides, Murtagh trusts him, so why shouldn't we?"

"But what about the king?"

"Yeah, that's right! The king was looking for him!"

"What do you say to that, Arisa?"

"Why don't you get off my back and go ask Master Murtagh for yourselves?"

"You have an answer for everything, don't you, Arisa?"

"Quiet down! You'll wake him up!"

"Sorry, Master Murtagh!"

"Say, why do we have to take care of him anyway?"

"Are you serious, Arisa? You were just saying you didn't have a problem with it!"

"I know! But I already have enough to do without babysitting another kid like you! Why couldn't you make someone else take care of this guy, Murtagh?"

"It was either this or cleaning up after my new foal. I still haven't decided on a name…"

"Why don't you name him after your father—Morzan, Master?"

"Because then I'd have to kill it…"

"Um…"

"Hey, I'm gonna take a nap now. Wake me up if Tornac wakes up, okay?" With that last statement, Murtagh left the mob of servants crowded around the bed that the half-elf was resting in. he walked over to a chair in the corner that was pushed against a wall and sat in it. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and tried to find sleep.

One of the blond maids put her hands on her hips. "Great. He just leaves this guy with us? What are we supposed to do with his if he wakes up?"

"Arisa," an elderly maid with graying hair turned to the blond. "Master Murtagh commanded us to awaken him if the half-elf should stir."

The maid called Arisa sighed. "Screw this. Yoko, if Morac—or whatever his name is— wakes up, I'll let you take care of him."

As she said that, Arisa turned on her heel and started for the door to the kitchen. The elderly maid watched her go.

"Oh? But—…Arisa, isn't that your job?"

Arisa stopped as she opened the door and looked back at the old maid. "Not anymore." Leaning against the doorframe, Arisa shrugged. "You take care of him, alright, Yoko? I need a break."

One of the male servants laughed. "From doing what? You haven't done anything all day, Arisa!"

Arisa scowled. "Who asked you, Hoji?"

"Would you guys just shut up?" another male servant turned to glare at the three people arguing.

"You shouldn't talk to a lady like that, Kami. Really now, who shoved a stick up your ass?" Arisa shouted from the doorway. Some of the other maids and servants turned to look between Kami and Arisa, but turned back around at the sound of a small groan coming from the bed.

"He's waking up!" someone yelled from the crowd. This seemed to perk Arisa's interest.

"No shit…" Kami mumbled. Arisa strode over to the mob again, punching Kami's arm as she passed him. Kami didn't even wince, but instead rolled his eyes.

"You're oh-so ladylike, Arisa," he remarked. But she ignored him and continued to push her way through the horde of people. Once she reached the side of the bed and could see the half-elf's face clearly, she noticed his eyes fluttering open. She gasped in spite of herself. His eyes were the most amazing this she had ever seen. They were the purest of blue—cobalt sapphires.

"Yah…" he groaned again. Once he opened his eyes completely, the room seemed to brighten. No one moved. Even Arisa seemed speechless. The boy's eyes widened in surprise at the group of people staring at him.

"Ah…?" he started to whimper. Panic was starting to build up inside of him.

All at once, the room broke out into conversation. Everyone turned to the person next to them and started to whisper. Still, every eyed remained on the half-elf. Arisa regained her composed posture and leaned over next to him. The chatter stopped and the room was once again overtaken by silence.

"So what's your name, kid? Isn't it, like, Ronack or something?"

Her only answer was a very small 'meep'. She sighed and hung her head. But then she remembered that she had to be patient and looked up again, an impatient grin plastered to her face. Taking another breath, she tried a different approach.

"Look, we'll be seeing each other a lot from now on, so you might as well tell me your name. Mine's Arisa. Now yours."

When she still didn't get an answer, Arisa lost her calm.

"Hey kid! You _can_ talk, right! So what's your problem!" she said a little more harshly than she meant to. The boy closed his eyes and whimpered…which only made Arisa madder.

Poking the half-elf's forehead, she yelled, "Answer me, dammit!"

Arisa was shocked when a cry of fear escaped the boy's throat. She straightened up and took a step back. Looking around at everyone, she saw that they, too, had stiffened.

"What…that hell?" she could hear Kami mutter.

"Arisa, get back. You're scaring him."

Hearing her name made Arisa jump along with everyone else. Everyone one in the room, including the half-elf, looked over to the corner of the room where a lone chair was backed against the wall. Sitting in it was none other than Murtagh. His left eye was open and staring at the crowd of people.

"Murtagh! Sir!" Arisa gasped in surprise. Then she smiled. "Heh, I forgot you were here. What's wrong with this guy?" she asked, gesturing to the half-elf. "He doesn't seem to be able to talk."

"Well, no duh!" Murtagh said as he stood up and stretched. "You guys are scaring the hell out of him. And I told you guys to wake me up if Tornac woke up!"

"Ha! Tornac! That's his name!" Hoji exclaimed from the back.

"Yup…" Murtagh said lazily as he scratched the back of his head and walked over to the bed that held Tornac. The mob of people tore apart to let him through. When Murtagh reached the bed, he looked down at Tornac and smiled.

"How was your sleep?" he asked cheerfully. But Tornac didn't answer, and his cobalt eyes were still wide with fear.

"Eh?" Murtagh looked down at the shaking boy, confused. Titling his head to the side, Murtagh looked around at the servants surrounding him and Tornac. Then, he knowingly nodded after realizing why Tornac was so freaked out.

"Everyone…you have to leave. You're really scaring Tornac. He doesn't seem to like being around people, but I suppose that can be expected. To put it bluntly—get out." Murtagh smiled as the crowd gradually broke apart and left the guest room through various door: the kitchen door, the laundry room door, the dining room door, etc. As everyone left, Arisa stayed behind and leaned on the doorframe again. Looking over at her, Murtagh shook his head.

"You really like that spot, don't you?" Murtagh asked her.

Arisa grinned and shrugged. Murtagh looked down at Tornac. He was looking away.

"Is it alright if she stays?" he asked gently.

Again, Tornac remained quiet. Murtagh laughed and turned his focus to the blond maid in the doorway.

"Apparently not. Sorry Arisa, but it looks like Tornac doesn't want you here, either." Murtagh laughed, winking at Arisa.

Arisa shrugged. "Whatever…I guess I shall go somewhere where I am actually wanted. So goodbye forever!" Then she dramatically strode through the door into the kitchen. Murtagh laughed again before returning his attention to Tornac. His sapphire eyes were intent on Murtagh. Murtagh smiled at him.

"Will you talk now? I know you can, you spoke once before. So what's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Suddenly, it dawned on Murtagh why Tornac was so mute. "Don't worry…Tornac, I said I wouldn't hurt you, remembered? So calm down, you're safe here. And I'll make sure you stay safe. Promise."

Tornac's face became somber. In a barely audible voice, he whispered, "…Thank you…"

Murtagh's smile broadened. To his delight, Tornac continued.

"And…thank you for…before. I thought that soldier was…was going to kill me…" Tornac turned his head to the side and rested it on the pillow.

Murtagh looked down at him. He seemed so fragile. "Heh, but I wouldn't let him." Then, looking around for a place to sit, he asked Tornac. "Hey, do you mind if I sit? I'm tired of standing, and I don't really feel like getting a chair. So can I?"

A pause settled between the two, making Murtagh feel extremely uncomfortable, before Tornac took a breath.

"…Lazy."

Murtagh stared at Tornac incredulously, before laughing.

"Yup!" he managed to say in-between his laughter. "That's me."

A very small smile spread itself across Tornac's face before the half-elf edged over slightly, giving Murtagh room to sit. Murtagh gladly took the seat and plopped himself onto the rim of Tornac's bed.

"Thanks a bunch!" Murtagh said in relief. Using his hands to smooth out the sheets around him, Murtagh looked down, away from Tornac. "Hey…"

"Um…yeah?"

"How did you get here?"

Tornac suddenly stiffened.

"What…?"

"I want to know about you! Your past and…how you got to Uru'baen."

There was more silence…then—

"I was…shipped here…by soldiers. The king's soldiers. Why do you ask? I mean, there are enough rumors going around to fill you in, aren't there? And…why would you…care?" Tornac eyed Murtagh suspiciously.

"Because! I don't believe the rumors. They obviously weren't right about half-elves, so why should I believe the rumors about you? And! Of course I care! I mean, well, if you're going to stay here, then I want to get to know you! You'll tell me…right?" Murtagh pleaded. Tornac looked up at him, then down again, trying to decide whether he was going to tell this new 'friend' anything or not.

"You can trust me…Tornac…" Murtagh leaned closer to the half-elf, begging.

Tornac tried to look away, but Murtagh had put his face right into his, so Tornac couldn't look anywhere else. He had to look up at Murtagh's 'puppy-dog-face'. So Tornac did the only thing possible. He closed his eyes and slowly nodded.

"…O-okay…"

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A/N: Ta-dah! Tornac talks! (Wow…for some reason, 'Tornac talks' sounds like a kind of a breath-mint…O.o…weird…) Anyway! This chapter was pretty uneventful… Next chappy will explain Tornac's past. It'll be better! Murtagh's past will be explained some, too. Hope you like

Cookies for all who review! (And tell me, should I make Murtagh gay or not? I keep thinking I should, seeing as how I always thought he was gay, and all my friends say I should, too! But what do my reviewers think, hmm…?)


	3. Insecurities

A/N: …Hey people! Heh, my favorite review so far is…

DO NOT MAKE HIM GAY IF YOU DO I WILL KILL YOU AND SEND YOU JUNK MAIL!

LoL! I really do have to thank whoever wrote that. At first, I was planning on making the main paring Murtagh x Arisa. But I still had doubts. Now I know what I'll do, though! I'll make him gay! Thank you, anonymous reviewer, for helping me make up my mind!

Oh yeah! I also have to thank you for reminding me to disable my e-mail address from my profile! I usually don't let people see my address so stalkers like you, anonymous, won't send me things. It's really annoying, actually…Anyway, here's another chappy! (Here's some advice: IF YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING, DON'T READ IT, ASSHOLE!)

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Chapter 3

Insecurities

"_I want to know about you! Your past and…how you got to Uru'baen."_

_There was more silence…then—_

"…_O-okay…"_

* * *

Tornac was lying back on the bed, while Murtagh was sitting cross-legged next to him.

"How…far do you want me to go back…?" Tornac asked meekly. He wasn't ready to tell about his past and everything that happened to him yet, but he wanted to trust Murtagh…and he wanted Murtagh to trust him back.

"First, how old are you?" Murtagh tilted his head.

"D-does that…matter?"

"Yup yup! Now spill!"

Tornac blinked and tilted his head. "Spill…what? I don't really…understand…"

Murtagh laughed, which made Tornac even more confused. "You're…you're so adorable, ya know…?"

Tornac's eyes widened in surprise. He had never been called adorable in his life. A monster—yeah, an abomination—sure, all the time. But cute? Never… It took Tornac by surprise to be called such things, and he didn't know how to respond. Murtagh noticed and quickly changed the subject back to Tornac's age.

"Just tell me how old you are, you dope!" Murtagh laughed, shaking his head to hide both his and Tornac's embarrassment. Again, Tornac tilted his head at the name 'dope', but ignored it. Looking up at Murtagh, Tornac's cobalt eyes flashed.

"I'm only 14."

Murtagh's jaw dropped. If Tornac was only 14, then that meant that Murtagh was only a year older. It was kind of disappointing to hope for someone to be the new 'baby of the family', only to find out that he is the same age as you. Murtagh's head drooped. Ever since he was born, he'd grown up with the servants since his mother wasn't around. To the servants, Murtagh the 'baby of the family'. Even now, he was the youngest person in his _entire_ wing. And still, the servants treated him as the 'baby of the family'.

"Is…is there a problem….Murtagh…?" Panic was starting to overtake Tornac and his eyes were etched with worry. Murtagh look up again and grinned his lighthearted smile.

"Nope!"

Tornac sighed in relief. A petite smile danced across his lips. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

"Cheh! No way! I'm just getting started!"

Tornac's meek, pathetic excuse for a smile grew wider. "Well…I suppose I'm ready…"

"I've heard that when you were still small, you killed your _entire_ village. That _can't_ be true, right? Because I won't believe it. Not unless you tell me yourself…" Murtagh said across from Tornac. The younger boy adverted his gaze away from Murtagh and looked down, eyes full of remorse, and nodded. Murtagh looked taken aback and for a moment, forgot how to breathe.

"It was…an accident. I had no control, I never wanted to hurt them…When I was born…m-my parents knew what I was…and my father along with my whole village…they wanted me d-dead immediately." Tornac's voice was shaky as he declaimed his story. His hands were trembling.

"But…but my mother wouldn't allow it," he continued. "To an elf, bearing a child is one of the greatest of gifts that could ever befall an Elvin woman. Children are precious to elves. And my mother held fast to her Elvin beliefs, and refused to leave me to die. My father moved away, but my mother and I stayed in the village of Tanioka." It was weird. The more Tornac talked, the more confident he seemed to become.

"The people in Tanioka didn't like that, and tried to chase us away, but we never left. Soon, they plotted against us, and planned our death. Eventually, they came after us." Tornac took a deep breath.

"My mother was killed in an attempt to get me to safety when I was only ten, and then the villagers came after me. But something happened. I remember being afraid…afraid of dying. I remember yelling just as they raised their weapons, and suddenly a great light blinded me…But that's all…After the light died out, I found every single one of the villagers dead. Stalagmites had formed out of the ground during the light, and had pierced through every single villager's body." The young half-elf shivered.

As Tornac finished his story, he looked up at Murtagh with pleading eyes. "D-do you…Do you hate me…?"

Murtagh looked shaken, but shook his head. "Nah…It was an accident, wasn't it? Besides, you said the villagers were trying to kill you, right? If you did have anything to do with their deaths, it was out of self-defense. I couldn't hate you for that."

Tornac sighed in relief. "After I fled Tanioka, I wander through the forest of Du Weldenvarden, searching for sanctuary. I was so scared, but eventually I found a village of elves on the edge of the massive forest. They greeted me welcomingly at first, but their hospitality did not last. The elves realized what I was, and chased me out of their village. They even went to the extremes to chase me out of the forest Du Weldenvarden."

He took a gulp of air and a deep breath before continuing. "My luck only got worse when I left Du Weldenvarden. Soldiers were waiting outside the border to capture any beings trying to leave the forest. When they saw me, they immediately restrained and gagged me. It was awful. The next thing I knew, I was being shipped to Uru'baen to be lock away in solitary confinement. I was locked in there for almost four years. I had to suffer much abuse from everyone—the king especially, and the soldiers, too. Anyone who saw me just had to hit me. I already had scars from the villagers of Tanioka, so I had gotten used to the hurt. I was only able to escape a few days ago."

Murtagh laced his fingers together and pressed his thumbs against his temple. Placing his elbows on his knees, he looked down at Tornac with a strange look on his face.

"When I carried you here, you nearly bled to death, ya know? It took some of my best spell casters to fix you up. One of them is stopping by later, so you'll thank him, right?" Murtagh ask.

"…I suppose that…I'll have to, won't I?"

"If I had any say in it, you wouldn't have to. But Saikoro, the guy who healed you, is just the kind of person who won't leave you alone until he's acknowledged. He's as annoying as hell, but he's a really good and loyal friend…that is if you can become friends with him. I'm probably his only friend, seeing as how he totally hates people. He prefers to steal than to socialize. Saikoro's really lecherous and quite the ladies man, but he never attaches himself to one person. He won't listen to anyone, either. Basically, watch out for him and if you do ever run into him, be sure to stay on his better side—otherwise, you'll end up with a lot less coins."

Tornac had a startled look on his face. Murtagh laughed at him.

"Don't worry," he reassured. "He's really a good guy at heart. You'll like him. I know he'll like you. He wanted to stay so he could meet you as soon as you woke up, but he had a meeting with Galbatorix. He'll be back soon. Heh, he said that you were prettier than any woman he's ever seen."

Tornac looked away, but not before Murtagh caught a glimpse of a blush spreading across his face. The younger boy still looked anxious.

""It's alright to talk to him, really. What are you scared of?"

"I…I just…don't like people very much. They do bad things to me…"

Suddenly Murtagh turned serious. "I know. Saikoro and I, when he was healing you, we saw all of the scars. You were covered in them. Saikoro said it looked like you had survived going through a shredder." (Wait a minute, in their era they didn't have electricity, so WTF? …Whatever…)

Tornac's eyes widened as he looked up at Murtagh. "Y-you…you…you saw them?"

"How could we miss them? But what I wanna know is how you got them!"

"T-they're not…they're not important…" Tornac said as he adverted his eyes away from Murtagh. Murtagh punched the mattress, his eyes flashing.

"Of course they're important! Now how did you get them? Wait…Humans…humans couldn't have done all of that damage to you…right…? Tornac, tell me! Please tell me that humans didn't do this to you!"

Tornac shifted uncomfortably in the bed. "It…It's not…important…" Murtagh had to lean closer to hear him because he was so hushed.

"Tell me!"

"Humans…and elves…everyone…Everyone hurts me…not just humans…"

"Dammit…! I'm so sorry, Tornac…"

"No! M-Murtagh…please don't be…! You…you've been so nice to me. You gave me a bed and healed me. I can't…I can't thank you enough…!"

"You really should thank Saikoro, too. He was the one who healed you, after all. I guess I could thank him for you, but then it would seem like—"

"No…" Tornac interrupted. "I wish to thank him…myself…face to face…If that's alright, I mean…"

"Of course…He should be back within the hour. Who knows what Galbatorix is doing to him…"

"Can you…maybe…tell me more about him…?" Tornac asked hesitantly.

"Uh…? Eh? …Sure, if you really want me to…Let's see…Saikoro is very sly and cunning. But he loves to have a good time. In fact, he's always the life at a party…Anyway, he doesn't like being around people and he doesn't trust anyone. His motto is, 'Trust no one but yourself, seeing as how no one else will trust you…' Yeah, he's all deep like that."

"…He doesn't trust anyone…? But what about his parents?"

"His parents abandoned him when he was born. A gardener found Saikoro in a gutter next to the castle and brought baby Saikoro to the king. Luckily for him, the king allowed him to stay. He was raised by an old scullery maid who died when he was only eight. For some reason, Saikoro has always been Galbatorix's favorite play-toy." Murtagh shrugged. "Better him than me, I suppose."

Tornac opened his mouth to say something, but then a sudden yawn stopped him. The half-elf tried to hide it, but Murtagh caught it.

"I should leave…" he declared.

"No! …Please don't…" Tornac begged.

Murtagh laughed. "You sure are needy, ya know…?"

Tornac blinked and looked down apologetically. "I'm…sorry…I'll stop…"

Murtagh laughed again, harder this time. "Don't. I meant that you were in need of more sleep. It'll do you good. And I'll be right here for when you wake up. Saikoro should be here by then, too. But who knows? He's never been one to just sit and wait for something. So I might have to fetch him once you've awoken again. Now sleep. Please?"

Tornac smiled. "If…you think I should…"

Murtagh smiled at him and nodded. As Tornac turned to his side in search of a more comfortable position, Murtagh got up and silently headed for the door leading into his chambers. Taking one last look at the half-elf resting quietly on the bed in the corner, Murtagh smiled at himself.

He was glad after all that he had been gutsy enough to allow a half-elf in his home.

* * *

A/N: Argh! This chapter is so short! Anyway, sorry for the delay. Nothing too important happened in this chapter. Next chapter will be the chapter when Saikoro (Koro for short) will enter! Yay! And as a heads up, I'm telling you now that he's not gay! He'll hit on Tornac sometimes, but that's just because Koro is wild and horney and likes to mess with people's minds. He has corrupted many so far and does not plan to stop the demented-ness until he's 6-feet-under and pushing up daisies. Got it? But really, he's a fun character and he belongs to no one…not even me…DAMN YOU! 


	4. Just A Two Bit Theif

A/N: Thank you, everyone, for all of you're awesome reviews! As I promised, here is another chappy!

Chapter 4

Just A Two-Bit Theif

"So how's the kid?"

"Meh…Better than how you left him."

"So my healing tactics are saving yet another life?"

"Heh heh…yup."

"Ha! Once again, Saikoro Umatsu is proving to the world that he is far too good for it! All shall bow down to me at least once before I die! Count on it, my friend!" a guy with long auburn hair shouted excitedly. Two markings on either of his cheek were etched from the bottom of his jaw to below his ginger eyes. His auburn bangs hung shaggily over his carefully plucked eyebrows and his pert, turned-up nose gave him a sassy look brightened by almond-shaped, fox-like reddish eyes. The boy appeared to wear a perpetual pout, but his frequent dimpled smiles softened his face.

Murtagh grinned at him. "I won't hold my breath, Koro," he laughed.

"Hmph…" Saikoro put his hands on his hips. "You'll see…even you, Murtagh, will someday worship the ground I walk on…"

"You already have half the population falling at your feet! I swear, it's like women have never seen a guy with red hair with red eyes."

"Ugh! It's not red! It's auburn!"

Murtagh laughed again. "Whatever…Until the day comes when everyone bows to you and kisses your ass, will you stop yelling? Tornac is still asleep!"

"Oh yeah, that's right…Well when will he wake up! He still has yet to thank me for saving his sorry ass…Hee hee…I plan to get close and personal…"

Murtagh shook his head and sighed. "You lecher…"

Saikoro shrugged. "I've been called worse…And why are we in the kitchen? Let's go out and see Tornac!"

The two friends were at the kitchen bar, sitting on stools. Maids were racing in every direction to clean the empty dishes while cooks prepared food. A few servants were lounging at one of the many tables, watching the maids and cooks.

"Nuh uh! I don't trust you to be around Tornac when he's asleep and defenseless!" Murtagh stated protectively.

"Ah, how I do love the vulnerable…But seriously, though! I'm not like that! Besides, you trusted me enough to heal him when he was unconscious!"

"Yeah, but there were people around…and you _are_ the best magik user I know…"

Saikoro chuckled at the praise Murtagh was giving him. "And don't you forget it…!" he muttered.

Suddenly Arisa strode by with dirty plates stacked together, topped with used glasses. Walking over to a sink, she handed the dishes to the maid scrubbing other dishes with soap and water, then turned back around and headed to the main room. Saikoro eyed her wickedly before putting on a boyish grin and calling out to her.

"Yo! Arisa!" he waved. "Get that cute ass of yours over here!"

Arisa rolled her eyes. "Fuck off…!" she shouted before heading into the main room.

Saikoro sighed and hung his head, dejected. "Hey Murtagh…Why does she hate me?"

Murtagh rolled his eyes. "'Cuz you groped her ass and blamed it on me…"

Saikoro's head snapped up in surprise. "…What…? Ah! You mean that was Arisa!"

Murtagh sighed. "Koro, you nymphomaniac…"

Saikoro stared at Murtagh with a blank look plastered to his face. "I have no idea what you're saying…"

"To put it bluntly…you lecher…"

* * *

Tornac rolled over on his side, trying to find a pose more comfortable. He missed the weight on the side of his bed that Murtagh had provided. He missed seeing his familiar face, and missed the feeling of safety that left along with Murtagh. 

He could hear voices coming from outside a door on the other side of the guestroom (didn't Murtagh say that was the kitchen door?). Tornac felt torn between the longing to get up and see what was on the other side of that door and the need to stay curled up in the bed he was in. After a few minutes of trying to decide what to do, Tornac felt that his longing to open that door outweighed his need for shelter.

Getting up slowly, Tornac shivered when the blankets fell off of his chest, exposing his torso to the merciless cool air. It was then that he noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt. His nimble legs were covered by loose pajama bottoms that seemed to be a size too big for him.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he shivered when his feet touched the cold, wooden flooring. Wrapping the blankets around his slim body, Tornac got up and stretched. His muscles (what muscles?) were sore from staying curled up for so long.

Tornac faced the door and contemplated whether he should really open the door or just get back in bed. His yearning to move and do something made him inch toward the door.

Slowly, he made his way over to the door. Grabbing the cool, brass knob, Tornac braced himself for whatever was lying on the other side.

* * *

"So what did Galbatorix want from you?" Murtagh asked Saikoro. Saikoro just shrugged. 

"Meh…he was pissed off because the Varden were able to get supplies this month."

Murtagh sighed. "Shouldn't he know by now that now matter how many soldiers he sends to destroy the Varden's supply ships, the Varden will still get their supplies? Heh, if I was the commander, I'd just capture the people onboard the Varden's ships and force them to tell me where the Varden get their supplies."

"But you're not, my friend, so why don't you just—" Saikoro's looked up and stopped. His jaw dropped and his eyes grew wider.

"So why don't I just what?" Murtagh asked playfully. But Saikoro didn't answer.

"Koro?"

Suddenly Saikoro broke out in a grin.

"Hey kid! It's about time you got up!" Saikoro yelled, waving to the other side of the kitchen.

"What is wrong with you?" Murtagh asked.

"Look! Murtagh, it's sleeping beauty!" Saikoro laughed and pointed to the guestroom door. Murtagh's eyes followed Saikoro's pointing finger and gasped as he saw Tornac's head draw back into the guestroom, the door closing behind the half-elf.

* * *

Tornac couldn't catch his breath. So he just stood there, his head leaning against the closed door. He still couldn't believe what he just did. Right after he opened the door, he looked around. 

_There were so many people…_he thought to himself. _And they were all buzzing around the room…Ugh…I'm so dizzy…_

With his head still rested against the door, Tornac took a deep breath to steady himself. He hadn't wanted to be seen. He just wanted to look around and maybe find Murtagh. Tornac knew from experience that if people knew about you, it only meant trouble.

_I should've just stayed in bed…I was safe there, and alone. But I was just so curious…_

But now, as Tornac heard footfalls coming towards the guestroom and as he ran back to his bed for security, he couldn't stop thinking of a really clichéd line—

—'Curiosity killed the cat'…

Tornac pounced on his bed, and just as the door was opening, turned on his side to face the wall opposite of the door, pretending to be asleep (Ya know, like how when you were a little kid and you were supposed to be taking a nap, but you couldn't sleep, so you secretly got up to play, but when someone finds out and comes to 'check on you', you rush back to the bed and pretend to be asleep, just as the person enters you room. sigh Good time, good time…). The door opened and the footfalls entered the room. Tornac heard the door close again.

"Yahhhhhhhhh!" yelled an abrupt noise.

Suddenly, a heavy object landed on his bed, jolting Tornac onto his back. Tornac squeezed his eyes shut in fear, the line 'Curiosity killed the cat' running over and over again in his mind.

But the weight was shifted off of Tornac's bed. Tornac prepared himself for the real assault, but it never came. Instead, a very familiar and welcoming voice made Tornac open his eyes.

"Koro! Knock it off! You're scaring him!"

Tornac opened his eyes to see the one person he was desperate to see: Murtagh. A small smile of relief etched it's way across Tornac's face as he watched Murtagh trying to restrain a boy with unique markings and reddish-brown hair.

"Dammit, Koro! Get—off—him!" Murtagh tugged 'Koro' off the bed with one last wild yank. Just as abruptly as it appeared, the weight was suddenly lifted off the bed.

"Heh heh…so sorry, ya know? Just got a little…carried away?" Saikoro looked between Murtagh and Tornac apologetically, before laughing lightheartedly. Murtagh gave him a look of warning.

"Okay, okay!" Saikoro held his hands up defensively. "I'll behave…"

When Murtagh still looked skeptical, Saikoro sighed. "I promise, alright?"

Murtagh shrugged and smiled. "Whatever…just stop attacking people, k? It freaks them out…And you have to be calm around Tornac. He's been through a lot."

"Heh, haven't we all…?" Saikoro mumbled.

Murtagh turned away and looked down at Tornac. "Are you alright? Did you need anything?"

"Ah…! Um…no, I was just…um…it's nothing…"

"Well I don't believe you!"

"Oh!" Saikoro chimed in. "You must be hungry? Am I right?"

"Meh! Koro!" Murtagh turned to Saikoro.

"Whaaaat…?" he whined in response.

"Aheh, you're great!" Murtagh exclaimed. He turned away from his stunned friend to Tornac again. "I'm so sorry, Tornac! You _must_ be hungry! I'll have Yoko make you something!" Murtagh turned to leave, but a hand grabbed the sleeve of his chemise, making him stop in his tracks. It was Tornac.

"…Murtagh…It's alright…I'm fine….Before, I was…I was just restless…I'm sorry…I should've just stayed put…"

"Don't worry about it! You're welcome to do whatever you want here!" Murtagh reassured the half-elf. "Hey Saikoro, go tell Yoko to whip up some beef stew for our guest!"

Tornac instantly paled at what Murtagh said.

"Ah! Y-you don't like that? Well…how's chicken? Do you like chicken!" Murtagh asked desperately. Tornac turned even whiter and his eyes grew wide in horror.

"Ack! You don't like that either!" Murtagh clenched his fists in frustration. "Well…we have other things…Turkey? Um…Pork? Ahhh! Saikoro! Help me!"

Saikoro had sat down on the floor and was twiddling his thumbs impatiently. "Um…Murtagh…buddy…he's a vegetarian…Am I right, kid?"

"Uh…" Tornac just stared at Saikoro with wide eyes.

Murtagh slapped his hand to his forehead. "Eh! I didn't even think about that…Is that true, Tornac?"

Tornac looked up at Murtagh, before returning his gaze to Saikoro. Very slowly, he nodded.

"Okay! Do you like yams? Because Yoko makes the _best_ yam stew!"

"…Sure…" Tornac said meekly.

"Koro! Go tell Yoko to make some gouza for Tornac, alright?"

"Okay…" Saikoro got up from the floor and headed towards the door.

* * *

"Here it is!" Saikoro announced walking though the door after a short wait. "Some of Mrs. Yoko's famous gouza, fresh from the pot and made just for Tornac!" 

Tornac was sitting up, cross-legged on the bed. Next to him, leaning on the frame of the bed, was Murtagh. Saikoro waltzed over to the half-elf with as much grace he could muster, and held the steaming bowl in front of him. Tornac just stared at him and the bowl blankly.

"You can take it now…My hand's getting kinda tired, ya know?"

"Ah! I-I'm so sor—…um…thank you…" Tornac stuttered.

Saikoro grinned foxishly. "Eat up!"

But when Tornac took the bowl, a small gasp of pain escaped his lips.

"Yah!" he cried out when he touched the blazing china. His hands jerked, causing drops of the yam stew to splatter everywhere. Murtagh straightened immediately and Saikoro bent down next to Tornac.

"Kid!"

"No…I'm sorry…I made such a mess…" Tornac whimpered.

"Don't worry about that, Tornac…How's your hands?" Murtagh asked, examining the half-elf's red hands.

Tornac offered a weak smile. "It's…it's nothing…"

Saikoro stood and shrugged. "Meh…look's like you got yourself a pretty bad burn…Maybe even 2nd degree…"

"Think you can heal him, Koro?"

"Haha! There is nothing the great Saikoro can't heal! Now give me you're hands, kid." Saikoro reached out for Tornac's scalded hands. Tornac obeyed without a word of consent and gave Saikoro his hands. The older boy closed his eyes and suddenly his and Tornac's intertwined hands started to glow. Tingles were sent through every nerve in Tornac's body, causing him to shiver.

But after a few seconds of the pulsations, the prickling ceased. Tornac let out the breath that he didn't know he had been holding.

Saikoro took a deep breath and released Tornac's hands.

"It's done…" he said, brushing his hands off and trying to regain his posture.

Tornac suppressed another shiver and brought his hands back, hugging himself protectively. "It…it really wasn't…wasn't worth it…"

Saikoro shrugged and said, "Hey, I saved you from a lot of pain in the ass blisters…"

"But you wasted all that energy…And on me…you shouldn't have…I'm not worth it…" Tornac stuttered. He held himself tighter and hung his head…which pissed Saikoro off…

"God, will you get more self esteem! I'm so tired of you treating yourself like trash! Yes, I must agree that many are not worthy of my powers…but it was my choice to heal you! So stop beating yourself up like you made a big mistake!" Saikoro yelled.

Tornac seemed to cower at his anger.

"Koro…" Murtagh interrupted calmly. "You said you'd keep your behavior in check around Tornac. Don't forget, you have to be patient around him…"

Saikoro sighed heavily. "Whatever! Murtagh, tell him to eat, okay? I'm tired of being so calm! I need to, like, get rid of this energy somehow!"

Murtagh smiled. "Right. Go ahead, Koro. I'll give Tornac a tour of the west wing. You go have fun."

Tornac looked up at Murtagh innocently, cobalt eyes wide with abrupt surprise. "A…a tour? That—Murtagh, that isn't…it's not necessary…is it?"

"Well of course it is!" Murtagh said, smiling.

"Okay…I can see when I'm not wanted…" Saikoro said playfully behind Murtagh. Then he very dramatically waltzed over to a tall window at the foot of Tornac's bed and flung it open.

"Saikoro…you're not…" Murtagh said cautiously as he began to realize what his friend was about to do.

Saikoro turned his back to the window to face Murtagh and Tornac; Tornac was watching him carefully, worry and disbelief gradually starting to spread across his face. Raising the back of his hand to his forehead in another dramatic gesture, Saikoro closed his eyes, a lighthearted smile dancing on his lips.

"Good bye forever, dear friends! The world shall miss me once I am gone!" With that last statement, Saikoro leaned backwards, falling back-first out of the open window behind him. Murtagh shook his head as he heard Saikoro's laughter from out the window.

"Can't he just use the door like an actual person?" Murtagh looked over at Tornac to see what his reaction was. Just as he had expected, Tornac's eyes were as big as saucers and hadn't left the place where Saikoro had just been. The half-elf glanced at Murtagh with a shocked look, before running towards the open window.

When Tornac looked over the edge, a small gasp escaped his lips before a rush of relief seeped through him. Standing on the ground almost 30 feet below the window was Saikoro. He was totally unscathed.

"…Ah…" Tornac said foolishly.

Murtagh walked over next to him, laughing.

"Heh, you should've seen the look on your face, Tornac! He does this all the time. Ever since he mastered the ability to manage gravity, he's been flying out windows non-stop. The looks people give him are so funny. In fact…I don't think Koro has used a window since his control over gravity…Sometimes it freaks people out though…I didn't really want him to be jumping out windows in front of you. Heh, he'll have to apologize later…"

Tornac clutched his chest and let out a deep breath that he had apparently been holding. "No…no, no! It's fine! I was just surprised…And what do you mean by, 'he mastered gravity'?"

"Meh, it was something he was born with…but it was only a little while ago that he's was able to actually direct his powers on command. Before, things would just randomly happen. I think that might be one of the reasons he doesn't like people very much…I mean, people already treat him like scum. If they knew what he could do, they would shun him completely…" Murtagh watched as Saikoro wandered into the gardens.

"What…what is he…?" Tornac asked cautiously.

Murtagh laughed. "Tornac, I've been trying to figure that out for a while, now…"

* * *

A/N: Review, or I'll eat your children! ;D 


	5. Rite Of Homage

**A/N:** Hey people! Some of you are getting pissed because I decided to make Murtagh gay, but there is no gayness intended in this chapter! It may seem like it, but really, there is NONE! The whole ceremony thing is what really happens. I didn't add anything that wasn't supposed to be in there (except the clothing).

What I mean is, in the middle ages, (during the times of Kings and Knights) someone could become a lord's (lord: someone higher in ranking) vassal. A vassal was a very, very, _very_ loyal servant. What happens in this chapter is what really happens when a person becomes a lord's vassal. No gayness intended! I swear!

Do I really have to add a disclaimer? It'll just remind me how I have yet to own the world...(twitch)

By the way, Saikoro means 'dice' in Japanese...and since I love dice the mostess like a fat boy loves hostess, I named my favorite character in this story 'dice'...Please don't send evil sea gulls and ki-ichigo (raspberries) to eat my soul! cries in fear

* * *

Chapter 5

Rite of Homage

"So…uh…Murtagh…there's something that you need to know…" Saikoro told the mirror in front of him.

"…Yeah…it's about Tornac…" But then he sighed and clutched his head in anger and frustration. "No! No! No! That wouldn't work…Dammit! I suppose there's really no good way to tell him about the king…" Anxious, Saikoro bit his thumbnail and started to pace around the room.

Then he sighed again. "Why the hell should I care about how Murtagh takes this, anyway? I mean, why should I care if he's hurting and never talks to me again…?"

"Because…you're my best friend…?" Saikoro heard behind him. When he looked up, he jumped at the sight of his companion in the mirror. Turning around at what seemed like slow-mo at the time, Saikoro faced Murtagh, horrified. Murtagh was leaning on the doorframe of the big supply closet that Saikoro had been hiding in.

"Oh yeah…" Saikoro chuckled nervously as he scratched the back of his head. "That's why…I knew friendship was only another burden forced onto me when I first tried it…Stupid, foolish me…" He tried to offer and friendly grin, but Murtagh didn't buy it.

"Saikoro…what's going to hurt me? And what would make me never talk to you again? What am I 'going to take'? And why have you been hiding out in a supply closet?" Murtagh clicked his tongue impatiently as he tried to calmly wait for the answers to his questions. Meanwhile, Saikoro just squirmed under Murtagh's watchful eye.

"No way, good-ol'-pal-of-mine…there's no way you are going to get anything out of me…" Saikoro edged towards the door, trying to escape. But of course, Murtagh anticipated this and guarded the door. Now Saikoro was trapped.

"Fine! Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, FINE! But sit your ass down, and stay down…otherwise you might strangle me…"

Murtagh agreed, and grabbed an old, musty stool that looked like it hadn't been used since the Neanderthal era. Saikoro watched him hopeful, but then all of his hopes and dreams at that moment were crushed, because Murtagh put the stool directly in front of the door and sat down, once again blocking the entrance.

Saikoro glanced around for a seat of his own, but only found an upturned bucket next to his foot. Seeing as how that was the closest thing around him, he decided then and there that he would claim that as his seat.

And with that decision made, he sat down, too.

"Well…?" Murtagh urged.

"Aheh, yeah…ahem…" Saikoro cleared his throat before starting. "Well…I didn't really tell you _exactly_ what happed during my meeting with Galbatorix…"

"So what _did_ happen?"

"Oh, the usual…he ranted and raved about how much he absolutely hates the Varden…but he was also raging about something else…Something like…a lost…half-elf…"

Murtagh straightened immediately. "What did he say!" he demanded.

"Well…he said that if he ever gets his hands on whoever 'stole his half-breed', they would be sent to prison…for life…"

"And!"

"I tried to reason with him…I told him that Tornac escaped on his own, that no one 'stole' him…then he demanded how I knew his name…"

"Saikoro, you didn't!"

Saikoro hung his head. "But I did…and after that, I refused to say anything else. He tried to force the information out of me…it took all of my power to try and keep him from invading my mind…But he overpowered me…He knows that you have Tornac, Murtagh…"

Murtagh stared at Saikoro for a long moment. Then he hung his head, knowing the doom about to be forced on him, Tornac, Saikoro, and maybe even everyone in the west wing…after all, they could be considered accomplices…

"Wow…" came a voice from behind Murtagh. Murtagh's head snapped up, and was surprised to see Arisa.

"Arisa!" both, he and Tornac shouted in surprised unison.

"God, Saikoro…I've been around for almost 19 years, and I have never known a man more foolish than you…"

"I know, okay…" Saikoro hung his head ever lower.

"Arisa…lay off him…" Murtagh told the maid after seeing how depressed Saikoro was.

"Whatever…" she shrugged as she leaned against the doorframe.

"No, I deserve it, Murtagh…"

Murtagh tried to force a smile, but failed. "Maybe…but that won't help us. Hey, Arisa, instead of insulting Koro, how 'bout helping us come up with a plan to get us out of this trouble we're all in? Hmm?"

"Well…" she pondered for a minute, before opening her mouth to speak again. "Murtagh, I doubt you'd remember—for you were only a child at the time—but after Morzan died, the king granted you many of the privileges that your father had. One of the first ones that he mentioned was the right to rule over any slave and/or servant."

"That's…great, but how will it help us?"

"Idiot!" Arisa yelled and she smacked the back of Murtagh's head in frustration.

"Ow!" Murtagh yelled in pain as he clutched the spot that had been hit. Meanwhile, Saikoro just watched from his little bucket that which he ruled over.

"All you have to do is make Tornac become your servant! Then, the king can't touch him! Once Tornac becomes your servant, he is your and only yours…get it?"

Murtagh blinked, before breaking out into a grin. "Arisa! That terrific! Tornac will be safe!"

Arisa smiled at Murtagh's eagerness. "You do that…"

Then Murtagh got up to leave so he could officially make Tornac his servant. As he walked through the door into the guest room, he looked back at his still-depressed friend and gave him a reassuring smile. When Saikoro didn't smile back, Murtagh turned and left the room.

* * *

"Guu…nuh? M-Murtagh? What…what is it?" Tornac meekly asked after being gently shaken awake by Murtagh. His eyes were dim from being asleep, but brightened as soon as he saw Murtagh. 

"I just wish to ask you something…" Murtagh told him as he kneeled next to the bed Tornac had been sleeping in and rested his head on it.

Tornac smiled a small, unsure smile. "More questions? A-alright…ask all you want…I suppose…"

"Tornac…" Murtagh's mind raced as he tried to think of a way to approach the subject. "Well…I saved you…"

Tornac nodded in agreement.

"That means…that means you owe me."

Tornac's eyes widened. _I knew it…_he thought anxiously.

Tornac gulped, but very slowly nodded his agreement again, his cobalt blue eyes filled with worry as he anticipated how he would have to repay his debt.

"Now I know how I want you to repay me. I want you to swear homage to me." Tornac's eyes widened in dismay at Murtagh's words. "To put it bluntly, you, Tornac, shall become one of my servants as repayment. Understood?"

It took Tornac many long moments to catch his breath again. Once he brought himself out of his terror-filled stupor, he slowly nodded his agreement once again, dreading the hell that he had just signed his existence to.

* * *

"So we really are getting a new servant to help out around here?" 

"Yeah, and it's that half-breed, too…"

"Why do you think Master Murtagh did that?"

"Dunno…but I can only imagine what kind thoughts are running through that half-breed's head right about now…"

"W-what do you mean, Kami?"

"Are you stupid? What kind of thought's were going through that empty skull of yours when you suddenly became owned by Murtagh?"

"Well…it didn't really bother me…"

"Yeah, that's because you're you, Hoji…"

"And what do you mean by that!"

"Listen, elves are prideful creatures. They are owned by no one. And even though that kid is only half of an elf, I'm positive he's pretty pissed of right now. I doubt he likes being owned at all. In fact, I'm also positive that some pretty hateful thoughts are going through his head right now…"

"Yeah…I suppose I understand…Do you really think he hates Master Murtagh, though? I mean, who could ever hate him?"

"An elf whose been forced to work for him." Kami told Hoji bluntly.

* * *

"It's time!" 

"Shut up, already!"

"Crap, I can't see anything!"

"Do you thing he'll really go through with this?"

Every last servant in the west wing—Murtagh's wing—was there in the ballroom. The tables and furniture had been cleared out to make room for the special ceremony. The crowd of people were all backed away against the walls of the room, forming a huge oval around the center of the ballroom where a lone black-clad figure stood, waiting.

Suddenly, the huge double-door were opened by two servants, silencing every last person in the ballroom. The two servants were ignored, however. Everyone's attention was focused on the person walking through the doors. It was Tornac.

He was dressed in a completely white outfit—the traditional outfit worn by someone becoming a vassal. A white tunic was draped over his shoulders, covering the white silk undershirt he had on. A robe embroided with white doves hung loosely over Tornac's lean and slender body. Everything was made from the finest of silk. On top of his head lay a delicate circlet with a lace veil covering Tornac's porcelain face. He looked like an angel…except his lip was quivering and it looked like he had been crying.

He stopped as soon as he entered the gigantic room, unwilling to go any further. Becoming discouraged, Tornac started to turn around and run away, but the two servants who opened the doors stopped him. Grabbing him by the arm, they escorted Tornac over to a figure completely clad in black.

The figure was wearing nothing but a simple, silk black robe. A hood covered his face, allowing no one to see it. The seams were threaded with gold silk. This was the traditional outfit of the lord who was to receive the vassal.

Tornac was slowly dragged to the figure in black by the two servants. He had to bite his lip to keep the tears from leaking out.

The servants stopped before the black-clad man and released Tornac's arms. Slowly, they backed away. Everyone was silent as Tornac approached the man in black. Once he was close enough, Tornac raised his hands to remove the hood the person wore. As soon as the hood fell back, the black-clad person was revealed to be Murtagh.

"Are you ready?" he whispered to Tornac.

Tornac ignored him and very slowly sank to his knees so he was kneeling before Murtagh. There. He started it. There was no turning back now. Tornac raised his palms to face Murtagh. Murtagh raised his hands as well and placed his against Tornac's. Slowly, Murtagh closed his hands around Tornac's, their fingers becoming intertwined.

"Do you, Tornac, accept to become my ever-loyal servant?" Murtagh asked loudly, never taking his eyes off of the half-elf in front of him.

Nodding, Tornac managed to stutter through gritted teeth, "I…I…swear…"

"Then let it be known. As of today, you are my faithful servant, who will serve me with the up-most diligence through any trial we may face together. Your loyalty will be rewarded with anything you could ask for. No matter what, you have my love, my support, and my protection."

Tornac didn't say anything, but nodded again.

Murtagh cleared his throat and continued in a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. "I become your man of the tenement I hold of you, and to you faithfully will bear body, chattels, and earthly worship, will support you against all beings."

Murtagh clutched Tornac's hands and raised him into a standing position. Then, as a signal of their agreement, he leaned forward and quickly placed his lips on Tornac's forehead. Now the contract was sealed. Murtagh promised that as long as Tornac served him with his entire being, he would defend the half-elf against all creatures. But the ceremony was not yet over. Murtagh had fulfilled his part—now Tornac had to finish.

Taking a deep breath, Tornac closed his eyes. Bitter tears trickled down his cheeks as he started to talk. "H-hear this…my lord: I…I will…I will bear faith to you of life and…and…and member, g-goods, chattels…and…earthly worship…so help me G-God and these h-holy…Gospels of…of…of God…" he said between sobs.

By the time Tornac had finished, his tears were unrelenting. They poured from his eyes and traveled down his cheeks like small waterfalls cascading to his chin. He grabbed Murtagh's black robe and slowly fell to his knees again in despair.

"Ah! T-Tornac!" Murtagh fell to his knees as well and gently shook Tornac's shoulder, trying to calm him.

"Calm down…please don't cry…"

Murtagh's words did nothing to sooth Tornac and stop his endless stream of tears.

"Go away!" he yelled. The whole room seemed to become rigid. Murtagh ignored them.

"Go away!" he shouted again. "Please…just…just leave me alone…I never wanted to become a servant to anyone…I just wish…wish that everyone would let me be…"

The trembling half-elf seemed to be beyond Murtagh's reach to comfort. Looking over at the two other servants, Murtagh nodded to them. They nodded back and strode over to Tornac, grabbed his arms, and pulled him up.

"Will you take him back to the guest room, Momiji? Nedus?"

They both nodded again and led Tornac back through the giant double-door. Time seemed to stand still as Murtagh and everyone else in the ballroom watch Tornac's departure. Just as the doors were closing, Murtagh could see Tornac turn his head and glare at Murtagh. Sudden anguish washed over Murtagh like a tidal wave as he watched Tornac until he was no longer visible.

Pulling his hood back up, Murtagh covered his face in mortification. "What have I done…?" he whispered to himself, feeling even more dejected knowing that no one would answer him.

* * *

**A/N:** So, yeah…no lemon or yaoi or cotton or shoun-ai intended…which all mean the same thing. Oh, and I decided to make Saikoro sitting on one of the statues high above everyone else's heads, unnoticed, swinging his leg back and forth because he's just cool like that… 

Crap, this is a short chappy! I'm so sorry! Please don't chase me down andpummble me with mini marshmallos! (But the MMF will protect me! Mysterious Man Fanclub isfrom a really random/funny as hell Harry Potter story: **The Many Jobs of Sirius Black**...READ IT!)

And no, I won't eat your children if you don't review, (simply because I am not a mime…) They must not taste very tasty…but if you don't review, then…I'll…(thinks) HA! I'll send my gaggle of carnivorous geese to attack you while you sleep! Don't sleep alone! Or…wait…never mind…

Just review so I won't have to think anymore…


	6. Squish

**A/N:** 'Love is nothing but a joke without a punch line'…heh, I love that line…Anyway! Sorry that it's taken me so long to update! Noriko-sama disowned me…--goes to cry in a corner-- Anyway! Do _any_ of you Eragon readers like yaoi? Heh, you people probably don't even know what that is…

Hmmm…I wonder if any Asians read Eragon. –shrugs- They would know what yaoi is…BUT DON'T LOOK IT UP, PEOPLE! Seriously, you'll regret it…

* * *

Chapter 6

—Squish—

Tornac slammed the dishes into the sink in frustration, not caring that a cracking sound ricocheted off of the chrome sink. The maid next to him who was washing dirty dished grimaced at the sound. Turning to the half-elf, she slapped his hand with a soapy wooden spoon.

"Careful, Tornac! You must be careful with the china, it came all the way from Surda!" she scolded. Tornac withdrew his hand and bowed his head apologetically.

"I-I'm…I'm sorry…Mia?"

"No, dear, it's Nina. _Nina_!" the maid corrected.

"Oh, yes…um…Nina…I'm sorry…I've just been…distracted lately…"

"Hmm…lemme guess…" Nina pretended to ponder Tornac's distress for a moment before snapping her fingers. "Master Murtagh, am I right?"

Tornac flinched at the name, but slowly nodded. Nina shrugged and offered the half-elf a comforting smile.

"You shouldn't worry. He really is a wonderful person…"

"Yeah, and that's why he has us all on a ball and chain…" Tornac muttered. Suddenly he felt a dull pain in the back of his head. He yelped and clutched the throbbing spot. Turning around, Tornac saw Arisa. She looked angry.

"Eh…? Uh…Arisa?" Tornac stuttered.

"Hey, kid! Look, I know you're pissed, but just chill out. Chill before you say something that you'll regret. Otherwise you'll get slugged! I know you may hate him right now…but stick around! I swear you'll get to like him. He really is a good guy…" Arisa told him.

Tornac looked down. "Why do you like him so much…? I mean, Murtagh was the one who…who put you…and…and everyone else into this…this…this slavery! How can you stand…to look at him after he took away your…your freedom…?"

"Kid, he doesn't have my freedom. No one has that. He has my loyalty. _And_ my trust _and_ my devotion. He deserves it after everything he's done for me. He deserves it from everyone, including you! If you think you're special enough to not spare any loyalty towards Murtagh, then you're dead wrong. The only thing special about you is that you're too dull to realize how great Murtagh is. He's already done more than enough for you. Why can't you accept that!"

Tornac hung his head, holding back tears of humiliation. By the time Arisa finished her yelling, everyone in the kitchen was staring at him, Arisa, and Nina.

"Oh…hunny…" Nina soothed comfortingly to Tornac as she put her arm around him. "Arisa, you really shouldn't be so harsh on him…He only just started working this week…"

Arisa put her hands on her him indignantly. "Well maybe he should toughen up."

"Arisa, can't you be nice?"

Everyone in the kitchen turned towards a door that led to the dining room to the source of the voice…Murtagh.

"Murtagh, can't you butt out?" Arisa rebutted.

"Of course not! He's been hanging around me too much!" Saikoro popped out from behind Murtagh and blew Arisa a kiss. She looked disgusted.

"You both can just go to hell…" she turned away from the two idiots.

"Meh, that's not what you were saying about me before…" Murtagh pointed out. Arisa growled.

"Whatever…" Arisa huffed. Turning around to look at the people watching her, she shrugged. "I can see when I'm not wanted. Tootles!" With a flick of her hand, Arisa headed out the door past Murtagh and Saikoro. Saikoro, laughing, took that chance to playfully grab Arisa. Arisa stopped and eyed Saikoro with distain, before smacking him as hard as she could. A satisfied smirk crossed her face as Saikoro drew back in pain and withered.

"Muwahahaha…" she laughed evilly as she left the kitchen.

"God…who shoved a stick up her ass, eh? Heh, must she be such a stiff all of the time?" he laughed while his eyes watered.

Murtagh shook his head. "Maybe if you weren't such a rapist, Koro, she would lighten up…"

"Rapist…?" Saikoro blinked, confused. Then he became angry. "Murtagh, don't speak of such things! I would never do that! So watch that tongue of yours, missy, or you might ruin my reputation. And if I go down, you're goin' down with me! Believe it! Don't think it won't! It will be your downfall if you do! Muwahahaha!" he finished, laughing psychotically.

Murtagh waited patiently for Saikoro to finish his ranting, holding back his laughter all the while. When the older boy finally did finish, Murtagh chuckled and shook his head.

"'Missy'?" Murtagh inquired.

"Yes. Missy." Saikoro closed his eyes and nodded importantly. "You have lost all of my respect as a man, so you shall no longer be called as such. From here until further notice, you are a madam! So what do you think of that, eh!"

Murtagh laughed some more. "Should I be scared for my virginity?"

Saikoro opened his eyes in surprise and blushed. "Sh-Shut up, already!"

The foxish boy spun around and socked Murtagh's arm.

"Hey!" Murtagh yelled playfully, enclosing his hand around Saikoro's fist. "I thought it was against your policy to strike girls, so what gives?"

By the time the two boys started wrestling, everyone had lost interest and had gone back to what they were doing before. Now cared to watch them…

…except for a really pissed off half-elf by a sink.

* * *

Tornac was still steamed about Murtagh's decision and just couldn't get over it.

"How can he be so casual about forcing so many people under his control!" he muttered to himself, not expecting anyone to bother listening to him. But Nina, who was still cleaning dishes from breakfast that morning, shrugged.

"Tornac, it all depends on how you look at the situation. Master Murtagh hasn't forced me to do anything. I became his servant on my own free will, and I work for him on my own free will."

Tornac stared at her in disbelief. "You mean you _chose_ to spend you life taking orders from a selfish, uncaring, arrogant man like him?"

Nina laughed. "You make it sound like we've all signed our souls to the devil!"

"Well…"

Nina stopped laughing and looked at Tornac square in the face. "Like I said before, everything depends on how you look at it. If you look at Master Murtagh as some greedy slave-driver, life is going to be utter hell for you. You have to learn how to look at situations from different point of views. Even though I am only a few years older than you, I have already learned that lesson."

"But…_everyone_ here seems to be looking at Murtagh as if he's this really great guy…_everyone_ seems to love him…but I don't see why…"

Nina smiled warmly at the half-elf. "Don't worry…you'll see why soon enough. You just haven't spent enough time with Master Murtagh to understand him and see the good side of him yet. But you will…just stick around."

_Hmm…_Tornac thought. _Maybe I will stick around…_Then he sighed. _Well, it's not like I have a choice…thanks to **him**…_

Looking over at Murtagh who was still trying to pin Saikoro down for punching him, Tornac glared. Bringing his forefinger and his thumb up to his face, he closed one eye and looked through them with his other eye. Aiming his fingers for Murtagh's head, Tornac pressed his fingers together, squeezing them as hard as he could.

"Squish…" he muttered.

He opened his fingers and saw Murtagh's head there again. With an evil smile stretching across his face, Tornac squeezed his fingers together again.

"Squish…" he instinctively muttered again.

Nina glanced over at him. "What? What are you doing, Tornac?"

Tornac didn't look up, but continued to open his fingers and then squeeze them together again. "Squishing Murtagh's head…"

"Meep!" Nina meeped.

"…Um…" she mumbled shakily, slowly backing away from Tornac, looking at him like he was some psychotic penguin trying to do the Hokey Pokey without the music. Tornac ignored her and continued to squish Murtagh's head, saying 'squish' every time he pressed his fingers together.

* * *

Tornac crawled into the guestroom bed, exhausted. It had been a very, very long day and a very, very tiring first week. The first day was spent being shown around the whole west wing and finding an appropriate outfit for Tornac's new 'employment'. Tornac still couldn't understand how he was possibly ever going to remember everything. After he found a suitable set of clothes, he had to work in different areas to discover which talent he was best at, whether it be the laundry, dishes, gardening, or just tidying up.

And all because he had signed his life away to Murtagh…

Tornac took a deep breath, trying to ease the fire burning in his heart. Propping himself up on his elbows, Tornac looked around the guestroom….his new room. Once Tornac had accepted to serve Murtagh, he had gotten his own room. The guestroom—the room that Tornac had first opened up to that greedy, selfish boy was now his.

Tornac sighed as he rolled over on his side, recounting all of the events that had happened since he escaped from solitary confinement. Closing his eyes, Tornac grimaced. The truth was that he really did owe Murtagh a lot. It was Murtagh who had saved him from being beaten to death by that soldier. It was Murtagh who gave him a place to stay. It was Murtagh who had been caring enough to listen to his life's story. Tornac sighed again. Yes, he owed Murtagh so much…

But no matter how much Tornac owed him, there was just one thing that he would never, ever do…

…call Murtagh 'Master'…

* * *

**A/N:** Or will he? …Heh heh, it's so much fun being in control! And everyone keeps telling me not to make Murtagh with Tornac…but Tornac really hates Murtagh, so how can they ever be together?

…Once again, it's so much fun being in control!

Oh yeah, if you read, then you must review! Flames are accepted as long as they're an assessment…or something…Basically, review and criticize if my story needs to be criticized!


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